


4 Times Rafael was a D-A-D Dad

by Perpetual Motion (perpetfic)



Series: Baby Thomas [2]
Category: Law & Order: SVU
Genre: Kid Fic, M/M, Rita has a cameo, Tummy Time, non-graphic mentions of diarrhea, what the hell am I even doing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-20
Updated: 2018-01-20
Packaged: 2019-03-07 01:37:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,965
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13423953
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/perpetfic/pseuds/Perpetual%20Motion
Summary: Exactly what it says on the tin. Turns out, when Rafael Barba becomes a dad, he becomes THE dad.





	4 Times Rafael was a D-A-D Dad

**Author's Note:**

> Self-betaed, so lemme know if there are any typos. Also, I'm pretty sure the courtroom scene is not 100% accurate in terms of law, but I feel like it's 100% accurate for SVU.

**1.**

"Next case," the bailiff says and rattles off the case number and charges. 

Rita stands and walks to the lectern. She holds up her phone so Judge Okafor can see it. "Mr. Barba just texted to say he's entered the courthouse. He has asked me to make the first apology for his tardiness to court."

Judge Okafor smirks. "I am glad to hear the word 'first' attached to that apology." 

Rafael walks in the door of the courtroom just then. He is wearing a dove gray suit, a purple tie, and a cream-colored shirt. He has his briefcase in his right hand, and his left is curled around the baby sling worn around his chest and shoulders. "My apologies, your Honor," Rafael says as he pushes the bar open with his hip and walks up to his own lectern. 

"Co-counsel was argumentative this morning." He punctuates this by patting softly at the baby sling. 

Judge Okafor's smirk softens to a smile. "Ah, yes, I've heard about your new...co-counsel. A boy, if I'm not mistaken?"

"Yes, your Honor. Thomas." Rafael replies as he set down his briefcase. He opens it and pulls out a sheaf of papers. 

"I'm godmother," Rita says with a grin, leaning over to peek into the baby sling. Her client looks betrayed.

"Congratulations," Judge Okafor says dryly, but she' still smiling. "Shall we get to it?"

"My client has willingly surrendered his passport and offered to wear a monitoring bracelet as well as having his accounts frozen to be released on remand to his family," Rita says.

"He was brought up on domestic violence and rape charges by his first wife seven years ago and removed his monitoring bracelet to sexually assault her again," Rafael counters. 

"Given that we are seeing a repeat of behavior--"

"Alleged behavior," Rita interjects. "Those charges were dropped."

"Sure," Rafael says. "As we're seeing a repeat," he lets the word sit a moment. "State requests held without bail."

"The current wife is staying several hours out of state and has stated she will do so until trial," Rita argues. "And my client has no desire to repeat a mistake he made as a young man in regards to taking off a monitoring bracelet just because it was itchy."

"He's already repeated two. And he was in his thirties the first time." Rafael cuts in, his tone letting Rita know _exactly_ what he thinks of the bracelet claim. 

"Again, the charges against him were dropped in regards to his first wife."

"She ended up needing several years of intensive mental health treatment," Rafael says, clearly ready to say more.

"Stop," Judge Okafor says, and they both look at her expectantly. "Mr. Weber's previous conduct with a monitoring bracelet is concerning, but if he is truly willing to surrender his passport and freeze his assets, I will allow him to be released on remand, as the previous charges were dropped." She glances at Rafael. He's pressing his mouth together hard. Good, she thinks. She doesn't love her answer, either, but it's allowable under the law, and previous bad acts don't count if charges were dropped. At least not at this stage. Judge Okafor hopes Barba is already planning to call the first wife as a character witness. "And we're done," she says, and taps her gavel.

A small wail comes from the baby sling. Rafael reaches in, and Judge Okafor recognizes from experiences with her own children, the soothing stroke across the forehead Rafael gives the baby. "Mr. Barba," she says as he packs his briefcase one-handed and ignores the quiet, jubilant celebration Rita is having with her client, "make a note your co-counsel is always welcome in my courtroom, even if he was a bit mouthy just now."

Rafael looks up, the smile on his face so personal and proud Judge Okafor thinks she's hallucinating for a moment. "I'll let him know after his nap, your Honor. Thank you." 

**2.**

**Chloe** : Doctor says it looks like it's just a virus. Need to keep track of his fever and make sure he's hydrated. The diarrhea should run its course in a day or so. 

**Sonny** : What's his temp now?

**Rafael** : I'll switch to my least favorite suits.

**Chloe** : 102.6. Down from 103 when I took it this morning.

**Chloe** : Rafael [laugh emoji]. I know you stayed home today to take him early. Don't pretend like you're all dressed up.

**Sonny** : I'll pick up some pedialyte on the way home.

**Rafael** : Are cool baths okay?

**Chloe** : Yes on cool baths. Thanks, Sonny. I wouldn't drop him off with you if I didn't need to fly out tonight.

**Rafael** : Chloe, we're his dads. 

**Sonny** : I cannot believe he said something soothing before I could, but yeah. That.

**Chloe** : [multiple heart emojis]

*

When Rafael opens the door, Chloe looks worse than he's ever seen her, even though they've all had sleepless nights before. But this time, Thomas is sick, and they've been group texting since early last evening when the fever started. There had also been a couple Facetime calls with Sonny and Rafael cooing at Thomas to distract him from the temperature strips Chloe used on his forehead. 

"Hi," she says, and if Rafael were the type to hug, he would. Instead, he holds out a hand for the car seat. "Help yourself to a drink."

"Thank god," she mutters and pours herself a double of Rafael's nicest scotch. 

Rafael looks Thomas over as he sets the car seat on the dining table. Thomas is flushed and fussy, tiredly gnawing on one tiny fist but otherwise not moving. He's a wiggly monster when he feels well--Rafael's been afraid he'll lose his grip more than once--and it's the stillness that strikes Rafael most. He undoes the car seat and lifts Thomas to his chest. Thomas lays against him like a dead weight, and Rafael has a sudden flash of every baby he's ever had to look at in the morgue. 

"He's okay," Chloe says. She rolls her eyes good naturedly when Rafael gives her a disbelieving look. "For a baby with a virus, he's okay."

"He's so warm," Rafael replies. He can feel the heat of Thomas's fever through his T-shirt. He presses his lips to Thomas's head, and it strikes him Thomas doesn't smell like a baby. He just smells sick. 

"I took his temperature in the cab. It's at 102.3. The baby aspirin is finally kicking in."

Rafael nods, then raises his eyebrows when Chloe cocks her head at him. "What?"

"I just realized this is probably your first time dealing with a sick baby."

"It is," Rafael replies. "It's terrifying."

Chloe nods tiredly and sips her scotch. "I've dealt with sick babies in the family, but it's not the same thing. I swear the only reason I stayed calm-ish is because of Sonny."

Rafael grins at that. Sonny, being Sonny, had been concerned but not worried. "Babies get sick," Rafael says in an exaggerated Staten Island accent. "Babies shit when they get sick."

Chloe grins. "You're doing everything right, Chloe," she says in her own version of his accent. "You got this."

She and Rafael share a laugh, and Rafael feels the warmth he has for her grow a bit. They'd hit it off immediately, to Rafael's surprise, and her continued liking of him helped him get through the first few months, when he was certain he was doing everything wrong. 

Thomas squirms, cries softly, and presses his head against Rafael's shoulder. A very distinct smell wafts out. "Diaper time," Rafael says. He carries Thomas to the nursery and sets him on the changing table. He's halfway through the change when Thomas goes again. The smell gets exponentially worse. Before Rafael can recover, Thomas wails and tries to flail, but he's clearly too tired to do more than flop a little. 

"Is he okay?" Chloe asks as she walks in. She recoils from the smell. "Oh, god."

"I wasn't even finished with the first--" Rafael has to cover his nose as Thomas goes again.

"Sorry, I should have warned you. When he goes, it's sort of…" Chloe gestures vaguely at the mess.

Rafael looks down at himself, then at Thomas, who is trying again to flail. "Could you start the shower?"

"I see where you're going," Chloe says, and crosses the hall to the bathroom. The sound of the shower starts a moment later. 

"You are a wreck," Rafael says to Thomas. He rubs a hand over Thomas's chest and waits for Chloe to holler the water is ready. "Good thing I don't like this shirt much." He scoops Thomas into his arms, grimacing at the mess, but holding tight as he walks into the bathroom.

"Do you need me--nevermind," Chloe says when Rafael steps into the shower fully clothed. The water is just over lukewam, and Rafael positions himself so most of the spray hits him and simply runs down Thomas's body. 

Thomas wails in earnest, no doubt from the temperature change. Rafael murmurs to him and moves him around so he can get him clean. He doesn't notice Chloe leave the room to handle the mess in the nursery. He also doesn't hear Sonny walk into the apartment and announce himself.

"Shhhh," he says against the top of Thomas's head. "I know being sick sucks, but it'll get better. I promise. Shhh." He hums a lullaby and dampens a washcloth as Thomas makes another mess. "It's gonna be okay. I'm here."

After another five minutes, Thomas appears to have finished making messes for the moment, so Rafael shuts off the water. When he pulls back the shower curtain, Sonny is there holding out a big towel. When Rafael places Thomas into it, he realizes it's warm from the dryer. 

"Hi, there," Sonny says to Thomas as he bundles him up. Thomas settles easily, clearly pleased to be warm again. Sonny looks Rafael up and down, then leans in and kisses him in the lingering way that tells Rafael he's amazing.

"Hi," Rafael says when Sonny pulls away. "What was that for?"

"You kidding?" Sonny shakes his head as Rafael peels out of his sodden clothes and wraps himself in the towels Sonny had left on the sink; they're warm from the dryer as well. 

"You've been handling this whole virus thing like a champ, and then I walk in and you've gone full-blown concerned dad in the shower. Chloe offered to arm wrestle for you."

Rafael doesn't know what to say. It feels odd to be praised for taking the quickest line of action. "Did you get the Pedialyte?" he asks, and the way Sonny smiles at him tells him he's not nearly as smooth as he thinks he is.

"Yeah. Fixed up a bottle of it while you were in there." 

Sonny leads the way out of the bathroom, Rafael following. Chloe's glass is in the sink, and from the slight lemon smell coming from the nursery, she'd clearly done a quick scrub before she'd gone. He watches Sonny coax Thomas into drinking from the bottle, and he thinks, as he watches Sonny concentrate so fully on making sure Thomas is getting better, that he gets a little of why Sonny just found him so attractive.

**3.**

Carmen walks into Rafael's office and pauses just inside the door. "Mr. D'Angelo to see you."

"I know I have this time blocked off."

"He's insistent," Carmen says in the tone that tells Rafael she's tried to throw him out. Rafael sighs to show he accepts the situation. "Do you need a minute?" Carmen asks.

Rafael doesn't look up from his spot on the floor. He's belly down on a blanket patterned with frogs, nose-to-nose with Thomas as he lifts his tiny arms above his head and puts them back down. "No, send him in."

Carmen waits an extra moment, clearly waiting for Rafael to straighten up, then shrugs and turns back towards the door when he doesn't.

"The man coming in now is an asshole," Rafael whispers to Thomas. "Please don't let that be your first word." Thomas flails and gets his fingers wrapped around one of Rafael's thumbs. He puts it in his mouth and drools all over it. "Deal," Rafael says at a regular speaking level.

"Did I hear--" D'Angelo stops short, the toes of his shoes an inch from the edge of the blanket. He takes in the blanket, the scattering of toys, Rafael on his stomach, and finally, Thomas, who is wriggling around to look at him. "Am I interrupting?" D'Angelo asks.

"Yes," Rafael answers. He gets a hand under Thomas's belly and helps him finish turning around. "Which you know because I'm sure Carmen informed you this time is booked." Rafael watches Thomas stare at D'Angelo and reminds himself he has a dozen pictures of Thomas looking wide-eyed and amazed at things much more interesting than the man in front of him.

"When I called this morning, she said you would be free at eleven. It's eleven-twenty. Don't bullshit me."

"Don't swear in front of my son," Rafael replies mildly. He levers himself up so he's in a sitting position and reaches for a stuffed elephant, which he makes dance in front of Thomas. Thomas grabs for it and jams it against his mouth. "And, yes, I was free at eleven before some things had to get pushed back. Now, I'm not free, and that's non-negotiable, but since you're the kind of blowhard who won't listen to someone's assistant, you're interrupting tummy time."

D'Angelo stares at Rafael. "What?"

Rafael spares him a glance, then puts his attention back on Thomas, who is now both drooling on the elephant and trying to wriggle his way towards his dad without letting go of said elephant. "Tummy time. It's exercise."

D'Angelo continues to stare at Rafael. "Sure," he says. "Super important to healthy babies or whatever, but I'm here to talk to ADA Barba, not Daddy Day Care." 

"Then you should leave," Rafael says. He tickles Thomas under the arms when Thomas manages to bump him with the elephant, and Thomas coos happily. 

"Has Buchanan seen this show?" D'Angelo asks, all pretense of politeness gone. "I'm sure it really upped his respect for you."

Rafael scoops Thomas into his arms and stands. Thomas leans against his chest and kicks his feet. "Buchanan has seven grandchildren, you idiot. Where do you think the elephant came from?" Rafael looks up in time to catch the shock on D'Angelo's face. "In fact, whatever you wanted to discuss, send it through him next time."

"You can't be serious."

"Buchanan's a shark, but he can be polite. Rather than demanding time that wasn't available, he scheduled for the moment I was free and waited his turn." Rafael levels D'Angelo with a sharp look. "Now, get out of my office."

D'Angleo gapes for another few seconds, watching Rafael as he settles Thomas into the crook of one arm then sits at his desk and opens a file. He leaves when he realizes Rafael is serious about not giving him any attention. 

Rafael looks up when he's gone and rolls his eyes. "I changed my mind," he says to Thomas, who has managed to soak about a quarter of the elephant in drool, "asshole can be your first word, but only if you say it to his face."

Thomas gurgles and kicks his feet again. 

**4.**

"You," Rafael says, pointing at Thomas, who is banging a spoon on his high chair and paying no attention, "need to stop growing."

Sonny laughs from in front of the stove. He'd taken the afternoon off to take Thomas to his six-month check up and just reported to Rafael that Thomas was in the 99th percentile for height but only the 90th for weight. "He's fine. I was a stringbean as a baby, too."

"You're still a stringbean," Rafael replies. 

"Hey!" 

"I know your dad makes it look like it works," Rafael says very seriously to Thomas, "but I promise, you only have about a 50/50 chance of the noodle arms working for you."

"Stop that!"

Rafael doesn't turn away from watching Thomas, who has slowed his spoon-banging and is staring at Rafael. "And you might get his long legs, but you'll run like a baby giraffe."

"Quit insulting me in front of our son!" Sonny demands through a laugh.

Rafael reaches out and smoothes down the fluffy spikes of Thomas's hair. "But, if you get his hair, you'll probably be okay. Although, honestly, your mom's color is way more likely to be flattering."

"Okay, that's it." Sonny comes around the kitchen island and shoulders Rafael over so Thomas can easily see them both. "Don't listen to your dad. He's just jealous he never hit five-ten."

"That is uncalled for."

"And he hates that waistcoats don't make me look chubby."

"He's jealous I look better in pastels," Rafael says.

Thomas looks back and forth between them, breaks into a gummy smile, and bangs the spoon against his high chair with renewed vigor. 

"An excellent counter argument," Rafael says. 

"How dare you call me noodle arms," Sonny replies, turning to kiss Rafael on the cheek. 

"How dare you insult my waistcoats."

Sonny laughs and straightens up. He kisses Rafael properly when Rafael does the same. "I love your waistcoats."

"I love that you run like a baby giraffe."

Sonny shakes his head and throws up his hands. "Thomas, tell your dad to behave."

Thomas beats the spoon against the high chair with even more force, and it flies out of his hand, hitting Rafael in the chest. Sonny nearly falls over laughing. 

"I'll get a clean spoon," Rafael says, shaking his head at the goofy, ridiculous state of his life.

**Author's Note:**

>  **Me a few weeks ago:** Okay, so I wrote a kid fic, that was fun.  
>  **Me a few weeks ago, minus one day:** (screaming at tonimacattack about Thomas facts.)  
>  **Me over the last few weeks:** (more of the same mentioned above)  
>  **Me now:** I guess I live here now.


End file.
